


Too Late To Try To Run

by spacetimerift



Series: Firestorm 2020~ [2]
Category: The Lobby
Genre: Canon Compliant, Firestorm Week 2020, Other, anyway this is dedicated to Cain for making me read their angst, this is some angst folks, unrelated but Eriness seems so pretty???? I wanna live there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacetimerift/pseuds/spacetimerift
Summary: Firestorm week day 2: running!! Apologies in advance to anyone who was expecting non-angst.(title from One for the Money by Escape the Fate)
Relationships: Judas/Gerard | Gee (The Lobby)
Series: Firestorm 2020~ [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009629
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Too Late To Try To Run

Gerard can just barely feel air burning into his lungs, the smoke choking him slowly but surely. Fighting to keep his eyes open against the sting, he stumbles across roots and into tree trunks. “Judas!” He yells, or more like croaks. His tongue darts out to moisten cracking lips, and he shivers in the face of roiling heat. Something had gone wrong, that’s all he knew. One second, the flame was in his hand, flickering, and the next it was surrounding him and his spouse, raging like one of their storms.  
Dimly, he can almost feel the erratic beat of raindrops against his skin, but the fire is unquenchable, uncontrollable. It’s not his. Because Gerard is a giver, in heart and in soul, and givers don’t send people running through smoking woods filled with ear-shattering noise and, oh gods, so much fear. The only way he knows he’s not the only one here is the taste of overwhelming fear on his tongue. Gasping harshly, still fighting to breathe, he trips over something. No, someone.  
Even with tears and smoke stinging in his eyes, Gerard knows his lover. “Judas,” he whispers hoarsely, shaking them gently, “Judas, we have to go.” They turn their head, recognizing his voice and touch. “Hey babe,” they grit out, wincing as the splintering crack of wood becomes louder, approaching their position. “Really got ourselves in the wrong place this time, huh?” Their forced smile would have caused Gerard to cry if he thought his body could still produce tears.  
A new smell invades his awareness, a sickly combination of bleach and lilac. Abruptly choking on the wind, he coughs harshly, pushing back the increasing pain in his throat. “They did it,” he whispers, as the realization dawns, “they’re getting rid of us. All of us.” Judas visibly tenses, turning their ears to the minutest of sounds. There it is, the slow chanting, the simplicity and suffocation that means… them. “Shit,” snaps Judas, “I should’ve seen this, shit!” Gerard lays a comforting hand on their shoulder, tries to rub the blurs from his vision. Dimly, he recognizes side effects of oxygen deprivation. “It’s okay,” he says, voice barely still there, “I’ll find you.” Their hands close as waves of smoke, heat, and flame creep ever closer. “I promise.”  
~~~  
Gerard’s champion snaps awake, gasping and looking around for the bonfire coming to claim him. Nothing is there but his bed, the stone walls, and the sword and dagger stowed under his pillow. Knowing he won’t be able to sleep again, he slips on a silk shirt, not bothering to fasten it, and creeps out of his sleeping quarters. The secrecy is unnecessary, but he prefers privacy when he can get it, which isn’t often. The cool night air hits his face as he rounds to the balcony. Breathe in for five, hold for six, out for eight. In, steady, out.  
He leans against the rail, staring down three stories to a simple garden. Idly, he wonders how long this has been his home, how long his name has been Gerard instead of whatever it was before. “Judas,” he breathes into the wind, “where are you?” He recognizes the name, of course, no self-respecting citizen of Eriness would be unaware of their god’s truest love. The problem is, Gerard has never met their champion. He shouldn’t know what they look like, sound like, smell like… taste like?  
Conflicting emotions run through his body like coloured lights, confusion, fear, anger, and deep down, love. What or who any of them are directed at, he doesn’t know, it’s just that simple. The slight chill of the outside sets a tingle running across his skin, but he barely registers it, completely lost in thought. “Judas,” he says again. It feels so right to say, like they belong to him and he to them. The impossibility of the idea has no effect on the certainty instilled in him.  
His golden eyes harden, and he walks back into the half-house, half-temple. “Wake up, everyone!” he yells into the silence, “We’re going to Rysden. _Right now._ ”


End file.
